I've tried to write this a few different times over the past 3 days. I amProfoundly excited. scared. really, really fucking scared. I'm also... happy? To be honest, I'm... as numb as I always am. Quick bursts of HOLY SHIT. and happiness and... relief? but also forcing it down. forcing myself to be rational. I'm not letting myself feel the good thing. Because It could all go crashing down. I'm getting ahead of myself. I often do.

I have been researching this move for years. I was engaged at the start. researching with my fiancé, visas and moving costs and the living... it felt impossible. I tried different avenues. I get chapter 35 benefits from the VA to go to college. So I enrolled into college. I don't care to talk about why that hadn't worked out. My struggles with mental illness combined with the unstable house made keeping up with the classes a struggle. My wifi was turned off often as punishment for bullshit. It just... wasn't working. After two years, we broke up. Not because of college, not because of the distance necessarily. Though that played a part and it didn't seem like I was coming. he was right to lose faith in me. he was right to lose feelings. I continued to throw myself at a wall. Got a job, got fired. Had some savings, my phone broke. I kind of fell apart. I went through days with my mind screaming at me to find a way out and I tried. Maybe not hard enough. I don't know. I felt fucking lost. Hopeless, alone. stuck. last September, I swallowed a bottle of pills. It wasn't the first time I tried something and waking up all I could think of was I can't even do that right. Scared the hell out of my ex and that guilt was more crushing than anything. if there's two emotions I can't seem to handle, It's guilt and grief.

I gave up. I'll admit it, I gave the fuck up. my research turned into emergency homeless shelters and any job that would take me, maybe get enough money to stay at a hotel, but I have a dog, If i leave I can never go back to this house- as bad as it is, there's roof over my head. I was fucking terrified of being out on the streets. but right before I overdosed I had found something. Something that at first seemed like a blessing but everything I looked into... it seemed to fucking laugh at me.
I was in college after I broke up with my ex. There were issues getting my VA benefits. Mainly the school kept pointing me towards the VA office and the VA office pointed me to the school and the school VA office was just as confused as I was- that was even IF I got a response and for weeks I didn't. But apparently. I got the fucking money. No one could tell me that I did. I don't use the bank account the funds went into. My current bank kept asking if i wanted to move \$50 from the account. so finally one night I decided to. I was depressed, spiralling, maybe buying new guages would cheer me up. I logged in.

\$7,000

I... had money. I dove into research and... the overwheming joy i felt very quickly sank. everyone is saying I'd need at least 12 - 15,000. And that's just the amount i'd need on hand to show the immigration office if I apllied for a visa. I'd need more for the downpayment on an apartment, Miles needs to 2 different vet appointments alone would be nearly \$600 if not more, my passport, my ticket... a good start, but \$7,000 wasn't enough. And any job i'd get, more than half my paycheck would have to go to my mother or i'd be fucking homeless. stuck. hit another wall. that was when I finally gave in and took the pills. I couldn't handle it all.